Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre
by Technomad
Summary: A Machiavellian Ravenclaw and his "Loony" friend find themselves swept far away from Hogwarts-farther, indeed, than they realize. Can they find their way home again? And what will the locals do, particularly the powerful local coven of witches?
1. Chapter 1

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

by Technomad

(All _Harry Potter_ characters are © J.K. Rowling, all _Discworld_ characters are © Sir Terry Pratchett, all _Slytherin Rising_ characters are © J.L. Matthews.)

_Hogwarts Castle__, Scotland, Earth_

"What are you doing, Nicholas?"

Nick Cleveland looked up from his project and smiled. "Hi, Luna. I'm working on this for extra credit in Charms. Care to keep me company?"

"I'd love to. I always like being around you, Nicholas." The blonde second-year sat down beside him, watching his every move with wide eyes. "Is that a Portkey you're fiddling with?"

"Sure is. Basically, what I'm doing is going into the essentials of what makes a Portkey work-deconstructing the charms from the ground up, to see how they work and if they can be improved. One thing I've noticed over the years is that when we-wizards and witches-think something's good enough, we often don't improve it. They don't do things that way in the Muggle world, and I think we could use more of that attitude."

"Oh." Luna settled in companionably, watching as Nick narrowed his eyes, concentrating fiercely on his work. The sixth-year was known for an inventive streak; he had set world records for altitude and speed on brooms in his second year, using brooms that he had designed and built, with the help of the rest of their House. Since then, he had gone on to invent quite a few things, from self-cleaning nappies to a quill that worked by its user thinking at it. By now, he had amassed a fair amount in his Gringotts' account, and several employers were bidding for his services once he left Hogwarts.

"Let me see-what if I did-" Nick muttered, absorbed in his work. Suddenly a flash of pink light erupted, and he threw the Portkey away from himself. "Bugger-something's gone wrong! Luna, get out of-"

Then the castle disappeared from around them.

Lancre, the Discworld

When he stopped being dazzled, Nick looked around. He was in what looked very like a temperate-zone forest, an environment he was quite familiar with; he had spent much of his childhood in one or another remote part of the North American continent, watching as his parents researched Native American magic or dealt with various nasty occult beings. His wand was in his hand, and he instinctively brought it up to guard position, just as he had learned in his duelling classes.

Not far away, Luna was lying on a beach near a body of water; as he watched, she shook her head hard, sat up, and looked around, her silvery eyes wide with wonder. "Something went wrong, didn't it, Nicholas?"

"Something _did_, little one," Nick answered, concentrating hard on trying to detect anything hostile in the vicinity. He couldn't sense anything, but he was still extremely unnerved. He had never expected anything like what had happened, and neither had Professor Flitwick, or he'd have never been given permission to conduct his experiments. "Do you have your wand here?"

Luna felt her left forearm, where she kept it in a sheath, ready for a quick draw. "Yes, I do. Shall I take it out?" 

"No, not yet. I don't think there's anything too dangerous about, but I wanted to make sure you could cast spells if needs be. I don't know where we are, and just about anything could be living here."

"I wonder what's in that water?" asked Luna. Before Nick could stop her, she wandered over by the edge of the water, dipped her finger in, and tasted it. "It's fresh, at least. So we won't die of thirst."

"Good." Nick was very worried, but didn't want to let on that he was worried in front of Luna. He was very protective of the younger girl-he tended to see her as a sort of little-sister figure-and didn't want to upset her. Not that upsetting Luna Lovegood was easy. She was one of the calmest people Nick knew.

"Let's look around. Stay close, and keep your eyes peeled. I don't want to run into something dangerous unexpectedly." With that, Nick got up and began exploring the vicinity. His wand was out, and he strained every sense he had to its utmost. While the scene seemed serene, he was quite well aware that there were quite a few large predatory animals that were native to areas like the one they were now in, and many of those would consider a witch and wizard to be tasty snacks.

They were near the edge of what looked to be a large, slow-moving river, with a sandy beach by the bank. At one side of the beach, a stone overhang looked to Nick like a handy place to shelter, if they were stuck there overnight. Around them, a forest stretched. Nick could identify elm, ash, oak and other trees readily enough, and from the lack of undergrowth, this forest hadn't ever been cleared, or at least not recently.

"I don't think there's anybody else here, Nick," commented Luna. "I don't see any signs of people, do you?"

"No, sweetie, I don't. Just the same, we're going to be careful. I have no idea where we are; do you?"

Luna considered the question carefully, finally shaking her head. "No, I don't think I've ever been here before."

"So it'd be better to be too careful rather than not careful enough. Understand?"

"All right, Nick. Do you think we could try to find something to eat? I'm hungry!"

Nick thought about it for a few seconds. "I'll bet there are fish in that river. Summoning Charms won't work on them-I tried it once, and it didn't work well-but I can rig some fishing gear right quick."

Taking out his pocketknife, the Ravenclaw bent to work. He cut some long, straight branches, and whittled them into shape to make fishing poles. He hummed tunelessly to himself as he worked, finally nodding and picking up the poles. They looked crude, but would do-he had selected the branches for flexibility and strength. "Now for some string," muttered Nick. He looked around, and his eyes lit up when he saw a willow tree not far away. "Ah, there we go!" He pointed his wand, and willow-withes came tumbling out of the tree, to be gathered up and laid end-to-end. Another spell, and they had become lengths of strong string.

Luna watched, wide-eyed with wonder. "Nick…how is it that you know so much about these things?"

Nick grinned. "You know I spent a long time traipsing around one wilderness or another with my parents, either because they were investigating Native American magic or North American magical beasties, don't you?" Luna nodded. "Well-a lot of times, I was left behind with the locals. Their elders just couldn't bear seeing a child and not teaching him, so I picked up a lot of tricks for wilderness living from them. Now watch as I show you how to make fishhooks!"

He cut some smaller pieces of wood, and began carving until they were fairly crude hooks. "This is where being magical comes in handy," he remarked; "the people I learned a lot of these stunts from couldn't do Transfiguration. I'm no great shakes at it myself, but this, I can do!" He waved his wand and muttered a spell, and the crude wooden hooks he had carved transformed into fine-quality metal fishhooks.

"What'll you do for bait, Nicholas?"

"Good question, that. Have you any food on you?"

"Why-yes, I do." Luna delved into one of her pockets, and came out with a half-eaten sandwich. "But I don't think fish like vegemite-"

"No more do I," interjected Nick. "What I want to do is take a chunk of that and turn it into something fish will go for-if that's all right with you?" At Luna's nod, he carefully peeled off a piece of the sandwich, and a few minutes later, it had been Transfigured into a chunk of raw liver.

"Couldn't you transfigure just anything into that, Nick?" asked Luna, reclaiming her sandwich and taking a hearty bite, as Nick shuddered. "I mean-there's lots of scraps of wood about, you know."

"I do know, Luna. However-I told you already I'm no great shakes at Transfiguration. Transfiguring one edible thing into another is a lot less complicated than transfiguring something non-edible into something edible. Now-let's be off to the water and see what we catch!"

Several hours later, they had a catch of four fine fat trout and a smallmouth bass, and Nick was showing Luna how to clean them. Luna was country-raised, and caught on very quickly. After they got done with preparing the fish, Nick spitted them neatly on sticks he had whittled, and looked around for some firewood.

As the fish slowly cooked over the fire Nick had built, Nick looked up at the sky. It looked as though evening was coming on, although something was different about the sun that he couldn't put his finger on. He pulled off his cloak. "Luna, give me your cloak, please."

Luna trustingly handed the garment over; it had been very cool at Hogwarts when they had left, and they had both been wearing cloaks over their robes, over street clothes. Where they now were, it was warm enough that cloaks and robes were superfluous, at least in daytime. The weather was clear, and if Nick was any judge, it was springtime.

Pointing his wand, he muttered "_Transfiguro Sagum Magis_," and his cloak expanded, growing shaggier and shaggier, until it was a buffalo-hide robe. Nick nodded, and did the same thing to Luna's cloak.

"Why did you do that, Nicholas?"

"Night's coming on, and it might get cold. Come to it, we'd best start thinking about beds for ourselves. I know some charms that'll keep wildlife, if there is any here, at bay, and it doesn't look or smell to me like it's going to rain tonight, but we'll need somewhere to sleep. I want to stay close around here, since if they figure out what happened, they'll come looking for us and I want us to be easy to find."

"Oh." Luna accepted this calmly, as she did everything else. Nick had never known anybody with her serenity, and secretly rather envied her. He concealed a hot temper and Machiavellian disposition behind a mask of courtesy, but had been known to lose control of his temper, spectacularly.

Luna pointed at the fire. "Aren't those fish ready to eat?" Soon they were munching away, carefully spitting out bones, in companionable silence. When they were done, Luna commented: "That was nice, Nicholas, but we could have used some salt and pepper, I think. And wouldn't it be nice to have some pumpkin juice?"

"I'm an idiot!" Nick slapped his forehead theatrically.

"No, you aren't, Nicholas. You're really one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. I wish I was smart like you."

"Don't you say things like that, Luna," Nick admonished his friend. "You're smart like Luna, and believe me, that's all you'll ever need." She looked at him, cocking her head to one side, and he continued: "Have I ever lied to you?" She shook her head, and he went on: "I should have thought of that myself, which was why I said that. I can Transfigure water into pumpkin juice easily enough…that won't damage us even if it un-Transfigures at some point…and could have transfigured some of the fish guts we threw away into salt and pepper and other fixin's. Those things are _edible_ enough, just not _palatable_. A real Transfiguration master, like Professor McGonagall, could turn dry moldy bread and stale water into a feast fit for Hogwarts."

"Oh. I didn't know that." Luna gave Nick a sunny smile. "Shall we start setting up our beds?"

Nick's experienced eye soon spotted a good place; close to water, but high enough up that even a sudden flash flood would not wash them away, and under a tree that would give them some little shelter should it start raining. At his direction, Luna gathered up springy boughs, and Nick Transfigured the two piles she had made at his direction into futon mattresses. He spread the buffalo robes out over them.

"It's not Hogwarts, Luna, but it's the best I can do on such short notice. Come tomorrow, if they haven't found us, I'll get busy rigging us a better shelter." Nick yawned; the sun was just setting, and stars were winking into life above the two Ravenvclaws. "I don't know about you, but I'm knackered."

The two sat up for a while, talking of inconsequential matters, until Luna began yawning. Nick helped her into her bed and tucked her in, leaving her with a pat on the head before heading to his own bed.

Some time later, Nick snapped awake. There was someone else in bed with him, and he knew instantly that it wasn't his girlfriend, Melinda. "Luna! Is that you?"

The blonde second-year clung to him, her body shaking with sobs. "The stars! Look at the stars!"

Nick looked up, and his blood froze in his veins. He was middling at Astronomy at best, but he had spent enough time in the wilderness to have learned how to orient himself by the stars. And none of the constellations he saw above them were at all familiar, either from his textbooks or his own observations.

Luna was weeping unashamedly. "I miss my dorm! I want my Daddy! I want to go home! I want us _both_ to go _home_!"

Nick controlled himself, clamping down on his urge to panic with an iron will. If he'd been alone, he'd have been all but gibbering, but he knew he had to keep a calm front up, if only for Luna's sake. The last thing she needed, he figured, was the sight of her protector raving and screeching like a monkey on Pepper-up Potion.

"Luna – Luna, sweetie, _please_ stop crying. Everything will be all right. I promise. Soon as daylight comes, I'm going to start figuring out what happened. I might be able to get us home. You and your Daddy will be back together real soon."

After about half an hour of this, Luna finally drifted off to sleep, clinging to Nick like a limpet, her head pillowed on his chest. Nick stared up at the alien, unreadable stars, an unanswerable question echoing in his mind:

_Okay, Luna, I've got __you__ comforted. Now who will comfort __me__?_

Sleep took a long time coming for him.

End Chapter 01


	2. Chapter 2

Nick Cleveland and the Lancre Coven

Chapter 02

by Technomad

Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland, United Kingdom, Earth

"Disappeared?" Professor Dumbledore's voice developed a distinct edge. "How could they have disappeared?"

"Mr. Cleveland was working on an improved Portkey, sir," explained Professor Flitwick. "He had received my permission; I had looked over his proposal, and his ideas made sense."

"He had derived some unique conclusions from some anomalous Arithmentical equations," put in Professor Vector, "and if he was right, his improved Portkeys could easily be used for trans-oceanic transport."

"The trouble is," Professor Snape said, his voice like a valentine wrapped around an ice pick, "it seems to have worked _far_ better than Mr. Cleveland, or you, anticipated. Mr. Cleveland is very persuasive when he wants to be. Could he have persuaded you to do something against your better judgement?"

Vector and Flitwick looked at each other, opened their mouths…and shut them. That was all the answer Snape needed. "I see. Since you, Filius, are his Head of House, _you_ shall have _all_ the fun of explaining things."

"To whom?"

"Miss Lovegood's father will be here directly," Dumbledore explained. He suddenly looked distinctly weary. "She is all that Mr. Lovegood has in the world, since his wife's…demise. I do not look forward to how he will take the news of her disappearance."

Flitwick paled. Snape gave him a smile that would not have looked out of place under a blue fin cutting the water toward an unsuspecting swimmer. "And Mr. Cleveland's parents shall also be here; they were a little hard to contact, what with the Mexican jungle being so ill-supplied with Floo points. Still, watching you explaining just what happened to her eldest to Madame Cleveland should be…_amusing_." He sat back and steepled his fingers. "I knew her, back when we were in Slytherin together. Grace Forrest, as-was, had the whole House goose-stepping. I rather think you'll be nothing but a tasty morsel for her."

Lancre, the Discworld

Nick Cleveland slipped through the bushes, making sure to keep downwind of the deer herd. Slowly, carefully, he raised his wand.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_ A flash of green light, and a fat young buck fell over, dead. The rest of the herd looked around; they couldn't see Nick, who had attached leaves and twigs to his cloak, but they knew something was very wrong. With flicks of their tails, they took off, bounding away, leaving the dead buck behind. Nick came out, kneeling by the dead deer.

"Forgive me, forest-brother. I kill for need of food, not for fun. Run free in the gods' woods and do not think ill of me." The ritual completed, he pulled out his pocket knife and got to work. When the deer was gutted, he put the heart and liver aside, and levitated the carcass into the air with a flick of his wand, along with the heart and liver. With the dead deer floating behind him, Nick headed back to where he and Luna were camping.

Nick had found them a sheltered spot in the lee of a very large rock. Between a natural "cave" formed by the rock, some long straight wooden poles made from the trunks of trees, and some sod Nick and Luna had dug and transported, the two exiles now had a rather cozy little house. It wouldn't be suitable for a real winter, which Nick judged was some months away, but for now, it would do. A fire-pit near the opening provided plenty of warmth; the nights were still cool, but Nick didn't want a fire inside, fearing lest it get away while they slept.

Nick hung the deer by its hind legs from the bough of a sturdy oak, and looked around. "Luna? Where are you?" he called. No answer. Nick began to worry. He had told that girl not to go wandering off…"Luna!" Still no answer. He looked out over the water; the lake looked distinctly inviting, but no sign of a blonde witch. Nick pointed his wand at his throat. "_Sonorus_. _**LUNA!**_"

A head broke water out in the lake, as Nick felt slightly weak in the knees with relief. "Oh, hi, Nick!" he could hear her call. "Isn't it a lovely day for a swim?"

Nick's fear was replaced with exasperation. Leaving the deer carcass hanging, he ran down to the water's edge. "Luna! Didn't I tell you to _stay in camp_ while I was gone? Anything could have happened!"

Luna gave her friend a beaming smile. "Oh, nothing could have happened, Nick. I did have my wand, and I cast a few charms to see what was about. Nothing dangerous – I was hoping for a Crumple-Horned Snorkack; Daddy would be so pleased if I could tell him I'd seen one – so I thought a swim would be very nice." She swam toward a large rock that stuck out into the water, and clambered out on to it, naked as a seal and unconcerned about it.

Nick was flabbergasted. He was no stranger to the female form, thanks to Melinda, but this was unprecedented; Melinda was normally very modest unless they were someplace completely private. Melinda would no more have stripped off and gone skinny-dipping in the open than she'd have streaked the Great Hall during the Sorting. "Luna! What do you think you're doing?"

Luna looked at her friend, and smiled. "Nick…you're blushing! Are you embarrassed?" She shook her head in mock sadness. "And after all the times you've gone swimming naked in the lake at Hogwarts! Melinda always thought you'd catch your death that way!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Look…Luna, sweetie, that's different. I'm a guy, you're a girl. The rules are different."

"Why?"

"Because…because they are?" Nick really never had thought about it. "Now, if I were a girl, it'd be all right. But you're not supposed to let me see you naked."

"Why not? I've seen _you_ naked." Nick gaped in utter shock.

"_When_ was this?"

"Marlie, my cousin, had borrowed a Tarnhelm from her mum. I got her to loan it to me for a night. She told me about using it to see what went on in the boys' showers. She called it 'checking out the scenery.'" Luna smiled reminiscently.

_When we get back to Hogwarts_, Nick promised himself, _I am going to have a __very long talk__ with Miss Marlene Lovegood, about "things __not to do__."_ The Slytherin fifth-year was very ingenious, but not always as prone to thinking things through as Nick would have preferred. Of course, when he'd lured her into accepting a "peace offering" that got all of Slytherin fighting among themselves, to stop a prank war by the Slytherins against the Ravenclaws, that had had its uses, but still…Nick had a sudden flash of inspiration. "Look, Luna, swim back and get into your clothes. I want to teach you how to butcher a deer. I got us one, and it'll be dinner tonight. Sound good?"

Soon, Luna was back in her clothes, bouncing along at Nick's side back to their camp, chattering happily about the apparent lack of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Nick smiled down at his friend. "Luna, what would you do with a Crumple-Horned Snorkack? What if it was carnivorous and decided you were good to eat?"

Luna gave Nick a sunny grin, and sang:

"_Hagrid thinks a Snorkack_

_ Would eat me up, but then_

_Daddy__ says the Snorkack_

_ Is a veg-e-tar-ee-an."_

When they got back to the camp, Nick showed Luna to a place where she could sit and watch him work, before he stripped to his undershorts.

"Nick…weren't you just lecturing _me_ about that sort of thing?"

"Maybe I decided you had a point," Nick answered, taking up his knife and considering just where to begin. "Or maybe I don't want to get blood and other stuff all over my clothes. Once this is over, I can go down and go in swimming myself, and clean it off. I could Scourgify my clobber, but I'd just as soon not. That wears the cloth out more than washing it does, and I don't know how long we're going to be here. Now, _watch_ and _learn_…" He began to remove the deer's skin, explaining every move as he did, while Luna's gaze never wavered.

When he was done, he had a deerskin and a good deal of meat, as well as a skeleton and a bunch of inedible parts. "Now, we put this stuff aside, and I'll Transfigure it into useful things, later. I'm going to put a preserving charm, and an insect-repelling charm, on this meat, tie it up, and hang it from this tree to keep it off the ground. Then, when I've got some oak bark, I'll show you how to tan a hide." He winked. "Since we've got magic, we can do that a lot faster than Muggles can, but it's easier if I've got oak bark."

Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland, United Kingdom, Earth

"You mean to tell me my little girl's gone?" Mr. Lovegood stared at Professor Flitwick in horror. "Gone?"

"I'm afraid so, sir," Flitwick bowed his head. "She was caught in a magical vortex caused by an experimental improved Portkey. I had given Mr. Cleveland permission…"

"Oh, he's with her?" Mr. Lovegood brightened slightly. "I've met him. If they're alive, he won't let her come to harm." Then sadness returned. "Still, I do want her back…"

"And we want our son back," put in Asgeirr Cleveland. He and his wife, Grace, had arrived from Mexico, where they had been investigating reports that a rogue Chonchon from Peru had taken up residence in the Sierra Madre Oriental. "Find him. Or I shall figure out who caused this, and I shall _carve the blood-eagle on their bodies_ while they still live."

When they left, Professor Snape was waiting. Grace Cleveland gave him a smile. "Sevvy! So good to see you, but I'm not in the mood to give you a 'Sevvy-smooch.'"

Snape clasped his old friend's hand. "Everything that can be done to locate your children is being done, Grace. The second we find out anything, you will be notified."

"Good. We'll be staying in Hogsmeade. Mr. Lovegood, will you join us for dinner? Our son's told us about 'adopting' your daughter, and we're eager to hear what you think of the deal." Mr. Lovegood nodded, and they went out toward the main gates.

Snape shook his head. He had known Grace Cleveland before…when she had been Grace Forrest, bright particular star of Slytherin, authoritarian Prefect and then Head Girl, star student, and ruthless enforcer of good study habits and proper English in essays. She had kept her self-possession well; she was a Slytherin to her bones. Still, he had seen into her eyes for a second.

And he knew she had been screaming inside.

END Chapter 02


	3. Chapter 3

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre, Chapter Three

Lancre, the Discworld

Nick Cleveland slipped through the forest, his senses on high alert. He could hear or see nothing out of place; the breeze sighed gently through the woodland, and all seemed well…but he could sense that something…some _one_…was watching him.

And he had a pretty good idea of just who it was.

He peered around himself slowly, taking time to take in all the detail; he had been trained by people who knew what they were doing, and he was a good hunter. He knew that just glancing around carried the danger of missing something; he missed nothing. Nothing around him was out of place…

And then something leaped onto his back from above; he had paused beneath a mighty oak with branches that extended out over the path. "_Oooof_!" He went down, and as he hit the earth, he heard a familiar voice.

"I got you, Nick! I got you, fair and square! Does this mean that I win the game?"

Nick rolled over and looked at Luna Lovegood. She was giggling, very pleased with herself. "Yes, sweetie, you win. You got me good and proper. By the time I'm done teaching you, you should be a good hunter in your own right."

The two Ravenclaws had been in this new place for weeks, and had settled into a routine. Mornings were given over to gathering food; although they both knew preservative spells to keep what they found from going bad, Nick had explained that in the wilderness, there was no substitute whatsoever for a good reserve.

"After all," he had told an attentive Luna, who hung on every word he said, "if something happens so that we can't hunt…a storm, or something like that…we'll still want to eat, won't we?"

` Picking himself up, he shook himself, and reached out a hand to Luna. "Come. It's time for lessons." At her disappointed look, he allowed a bit of sternness to creep into his voice, much against his own inclination. "We may be rescued any day, and I don't want your studies to be damaged by this unexpected holiday. Your father would never forgive me."

"Oh, Daddy wouldn't care. He'd just be glad to have me back." Luna looked up at Nick, her big silvery eyes full of trust and love. "What about _your_ studies, Nick? You teach me…who's to teach _you_? How can you learn new things?"

"Professor Dumbledore told me, when I was assigned to tutor all those firsties, that going over the basics like I'm doing with you was a very good way to ensure that one knows them thoroughly. In any case, Professor Flitwick says that even without any more studying, I've got my NEWTs in the bag." By that time, the two had reached a long log that they always sat on for Luna's lessons. Each of them sat at one end, facing the other. "Now…what are Gant's Principles of Elementary Transfiguration?"

Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland, Earth

"_Damn_ that schemer," muttered Professor Vector. "I never would have thought of using Arithmancy this way!"

"Mr. Cleveland was always a very original sort of person," commented Professor Flitwick, who was looking over a thick sheaf of notes. "At least these are in English. He used to keep his notes in some damned obscure Norwegian dialect until his girlfriend got him to use English so she could read them too."

"At least we know he's still alive and well," Professor Snape drawled. "His mother was kind enough to loan us one of the devices she uses to keep track of his well-being. When she heard about his altitude record…after the fact, of course…she created several of those and kept them close by her." He pointed to the corner, where a gadget like a silver gyroscope spun and spun endlessly. "And if he's alive, so is Miss Lovegood…the _Ravenclaw_ Miss Lovegood, I mean."

"Well, if we manage to retrieve him, I plan to give him a nice _long_ set of detentions, and then ask him if he'd allow me to work these equations up into an article for _Arithmancy Today_," Vector said. Flitwick drew himself up, and Vector hastily clarified: "With full credit going to him, of course." Mollified, Flitwick returned to the absorbing task of tracing where his wayward Ravenclaws had gone to.

"You mentioned his girlfriend, Filius," Snape said. "How did she take the news of his disappearance? She's quite attached to him, and to the younger Miss Lovegood as well."

"Not at all well, Severus," Flitwick admitted. "When she was told, she went into what I'd have to say was nearly a catatonic state. If either of those two had been hurt or killed by some enemy, she'd at least have had that enemy to fight, but this way, she had no outlet for her rage. Some of her roommates were kind enough to lead her down to the infirmary, and she's there now, staring into space. If they didn't have house-elves taking care of her, she wouldn't eat or drink. She's on suicide watch, and if she tries to harm herself, she'll probably have to be stunned long enough to put her into restraints."

"Oh, _wonderful_," Snape grumbled. "Listen, Filius. I've met the head of her family…the man she calls _Taiyue_, which means, roughly, "patriarch of my house." If harm comes to her through our negligence, his vengeance will make the worst the Death Eaters can do to us look like a day in the countryside." Flitwick paled; he knew the reputation and record of Melinda Yang's patriarch, and he privately thought that even Dumbledore or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would not come off well in an all-out battle with the man he knew as Doctor Fu Renjie. Another title he carried, one he had earned fair and square, was "The Lord of Strange Deaths." Those who seriously displeased Doctor Fu generally had…interesting…demises.

"We will take every precaution to keep Miss Yang unharmed. At least Poppy tells me that recovering her boyfriend and her protégé alive and unharmed will probably snap her out of whatever tailspin she's in." Flitwick quirked a quick grin. "And, I must say, life without Mr. Cleveland's scheming is…dull."

"So it is," Snape allowed. "My Slytherins have felt for some time that he was mis-Sorted; that he should have been one of mine. I do think that I may be the only teacher in this school who has a prayer of keeping up with his shenanigans. Do you remember when he flew out to Little Whinging to deal with Mr. Potter's unpleasant family?"

"Don't remind me of that!" Flitwick blushed. "That young man's plausible enough to sell goblins iron pyrites. Didn't he trick your Slytherins once?"

"Yes, he did. He got them to accept a peace offering from him and his house, to stop a prank war that my Slytherins were waging against your 'Claws. However, he knew that what he offered wasn't enough to go around, and made sure to deliver it where and when everybody in the house could see it and try for a share. That set off the biggest fight my House has seen in decades." Snape scowled. "To add insult to injury, when I called him in and asked about it, he pointed out that he had given fair warning. The bottles all had a golden-apple emblem on the labels, a reference to the Apple of Discord in Greek myth, and he had told the Slytherin envoys in so many words that 'when dealing with the subtle, subtlety's useful.'"

Flitwick shook his head. "I almost feel sorry for whatever place he's ended up. He'll either end up being lynched, or crowned a king."

_Lancre, the Discworld_.

Nick glowered at the log he had found. It was the right length and diameter, sure enough…but it turned out to be too full of rot for his purposes. With a few Scandinavian maledictions, he went back into the woods, looking for the perfect tree for his purposes.

By this time, he had carved a good few tools of various sorts out of wood, and then Transfigured them into steel, so he wasn't just limited to his wand. Still, he had to admit that being magical made wilderness survival much easier in many ways. He and Luna were both eating well, with very little of the game he caught going to waste. Parts he would have normally thrown away were Transfigured into things that the two castaways could use.

Finally, he found the perfect tree. Strong and straight, its trunk had the dimensions he wanted, and there was no sign of rot, carpenter ants, or other wood-damaging diseases. Patting the trunk, he murmured an apology to the tree's spirit, before severing it just above the ground line with a quick blast of magical energy. The tree fell with a loud crash, and he began cutting off branches until he had the trunk cleaned and ready to be levitated back to their camp.

When Luna came back from her morning's regular search for edible plants, she paused and looked at Nick's latest project in wonder. "Is that going to be a canoe, Nick?"

Nick looked up, wiping sweat out of his eyes; some of the work he had been doing was strenuous, and a lot of it took very careful control. "Sure is, honeybunch. I've been wanting a dugout canoe ever since I found that marsh with all the wild rice growing. It's not in season, but I can deal with that with a Ripen spell. Wild rice is one of the nicest things you can get in this sort of woods. Imagine a bird stuffed with it and roasted in clay!"

Luna gave Nick a beaming smile, and went to put her gleanings away. As Nick bent back to his work, he thought: _And if we aren't rescued by the time fall starts socking in, sweetie, I can enchant this thing to fly about as well as a broomstick…but, unlike a broom, we can carry supplies and it'll have room for us both! _

Nick was wilderness-wise enough to know that if he went downstream, sooner or later, he'd almost certainly come to whatever civilization existed there. With a canoe that could fly on command, rapids and falls would be no problem, and he knew he could cover a lot of territory in a day's worth of traveling. He hadn't let on in front of Luna, but he was getting very worried. It could be that he and his friend were stuck here for good. _At least we have our magic_! He just hoped that the local people didn't have some absurd prejudice against witchcraft.

END Chapter Three.


	4. Chapter 4

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Chapter Four

Lancre, the Discworld

Nick Cleveland looked over his handiwork with satisfaction. After three or four tries, he had finally succeeded in creating a dugout canoe that would actually float, and was big enough to hold him, Luna, and an assortment of gear.

He had already tested it out, paddling around until he had found a quiet backwater where wild rice grew thickly. While he was not an absolute star at Herbology, he knew more than enough to be able to cast a charm to make plants grow and ripen rapidly, and he had harvested nearly a canoe-ful of wild rice. That, combined with the plump partridges he had shot down with his wand, would make an excellent supper.

Luna had found several hives of wild bees, and had gathered more than enough honey for Nick's purposes. He had put up several jars of diluted honey to make mead with, and had plans to use the rest for a honey-glaze.

All in all, the two castaways were leading a fairly good life, in Nick's own opinion. He blessed the good fortune that both of them were not only magical, but familiar with rural and country life. Nick thought that if someone like Draco Malfoy, or the city-raised Colin Creevey, had been stranded there instead of him and Luna, they'd have starved to death in the middle of what was, to Nick, a bonanza of food. And with magic, things like turning raw clay dug from a clay-bank Luna had found into dishes, jars and other pottery was much easier. Nick honestly pitied muggles; he couldn't have imagined all the work he would have had to do, and all the mistakes he'd have made, trying to do that the muggle way.

And now, having cast the last charms he needed, it was time to test his canoe's true purpose. Standing beside it, he held out his hand. "Up!" The canoe heaved, rolled slightly…and came up to his hand, just like a broom.

Nick smiled broadly. With a canoe that could fly if needed, he knew that he and Luna weren't stranded here in the middle-of-nowhere. He had noticed the days getting shorter, and could see by many signs that autumn was coming, and winter couldn't be far behind. While they'd been quite comfortable so far, he didn't at all fancy the idea of trying to survive a temperate-zone winter camped out in the open.

He planned to load Luna, such of their gear as they'd need on a trip, and himself into the canoe, and head off downstream. From earliest childhood, it had been hammered into his head that going downstream and/or downhill was the way to go if lost; that way, one would eventually run into other people. They'd stay in the water for as much of the trip as he could manage; while he, himself, was a fairly good white-water man, he had no illusions about Luna's background, and he refused to risk her safety. If they came to rough water, they'd fly over it, and the same went for falls. Portaging their gear and the canoe on his back was something he preferred not to do. Particularly since a lot of it was heavy; deer hides, transfigured to tanned hide with an application of oak bark and a spell or two, made a fine tent, but it was much heavier than the Muggle versions he'd seen in use back at home.

For a second, he was racked with aching homesickness. He was tired…tired down deep in his soul. He loved Luna dearly, but she _wasn't_ his girlfriend; she was more like the little sister he had lost, or the daughter he sometimes hoped he'd have one day. He was tired of being the one who was always supposed to pull miracles out of his hat; he was afraid that one day he'd reach in and, instead of a rabbit, pull forth a handful of rabbit scat. He missed Hogwarts. He'd have given anything even to get another detention. He particularly missed the libraries; they had been his home-from-home from the minute he had discovered them. Even for a Ravenclaw, he was considered rather bookish.

Nick knew Luna was homesick sometimes, too, although normally she was very cheery and took their altered circumstances very much in her stride. They didn't sleep far from each other, although he _had_ finally managed to persuade her that staying in her own bed, instead of crawling in with him when she had nightmares, was a good idea. He had heard her crying in the night…"I miss my Daddy!" He knew that Luna and her father were very close, and hated to think of how much such a separation must have hurt both of them. _I'm sorry, Luna_…

If they did have to leave, Nick hoped they'd find civilisation soon. With their magical skills, he figured they wouldn't have any trouble making some sort of living, and as long as the locals didn't have some absurd prejudice against magic, such as he had read of in his History of Magic lessons, they wouldn't have any trouble. _And if they do have such a prejudice_…he smiled grimly. If they did find out that the locals disliked or feared magic, they could either travel onward, or operate clandestinely.

A shadow passed by overhead, but Nick didn't particularly pay it any mind; he was absorbed with figuring out how much food he could pack aboard the canoe and still have room for himself, Luna, and some basic camping gear.

Granny Weatherwax was not in a good mood. In other words, she was feeling completely normal. She had just come back from Genua, and having to deal with her sister hadn't improved her disposition any. This was the first day she'd been able to go flying, and she was checking up on everything in Lancre to make sure that things were going the way they should.

She had spotted a plume of smoke where she didn't think one should be…in a patch of wilderness a few miles up the river from Bad Ass. She could also sense the presence of a real talent…someone who'd be a powerful witch in her own right, once she was trained. And, as the senior witch in Lancre, she felt it her duty to investigate.

When she flew by, she was startled to see a campsite along the river, where it widened to form a small lake. She approved of how the site was laid out; whoever had done it knew his business. On the shingle near the lake, she saw a man working, and came in for a landing to see who he was and what he was doing.

She found herself staring at the back of a young man of the sort that she knew her friend Nanny Ogg would approve of highly; he was lean, tanned, well-muscled, and working hard enough that he hadn't even noticed her landing. He was dressed in a cloth shirt and what looked to Granny Weatherwax very much like tanned deerhide trousers and boots.

After a minute or two, Granny Weatherwax decided she was tired of being ignored. She cleared her throat loudly, and the strange man jumped, turning around to face her.

Nick was absorbed in stuffing the two birds he'd caught with wild rice, and had dropped his usual guard. Things had been so peaceful that he'd allowed the guard-wards he had originally set around their camp to lapse; they did take a certain amount of energy to run.

He was startled out of his reverie by a loud throat-clearing noise behind him, and whirled, to find himself facing what, at first, seemed to be a familiar person. "Professor McGonagall…no, you _aren't_ Professor McGonagall, _are_ you?" At first, the resemblance was uncannily close, but Nick's sharp eye had rapidly noticed differences in detail. He had had a moment of wild hope that they'd finally been found, and could go back to Hogwarts, and disappointment soured his mood rapidly.

"Nope. I ain't any 'professor,' young feller. I'm here for that girl. The one you've got around this camp." Nick bristled at this; he had promised himself to protect Luna, and protect her he would, no matter who came around to try to get her!

"And what makes you think that I'm in the habit of handing my friends over to any old lady that comes around asking? I don't know you from Job's off-ox, and I don't know why you want her, and I'm not free to turn her over to you anyway! Who are _you_ to come into _my camp_ and start giving _me_ orders?" Nick unobtrusively wiggled his left arm, letting his wand drop into his hand by his side from the shoulder-sheath he kept it in when not in use.

It had been a long, long time since anybody in Lancre had dared speak to Granny Weatherwax in such a way. For a second, she was rocked back on her heels by sheer shock and amazement. Then her eyes narrowed. This sounded like a direct challenge to her authority…and she only knew one way to react to a challenge. She could see that "headology" wouldn't work in this case; if this stranger had argued with her, instead of giving her a blank refusal, she'd have tried it, but there was only one thing to do. Gathering her power, she sent a powerful blast at this impudent young man.

Much to her surprise, it didn't seem to affect him much; he stepped back, his eyes widening and one hand going to the breast of his shirt, but he wasn't downed. With his free hand, he raised what Granny recognized as a magical wand…and a powerful one, at that…and screamed "_Protego Maxima_!"

Granny tried another blast, but, much to her shock, it bounced off what felt like an invisible shield in the air. The young man grinned at her…or, at least, he showed his teeth. Granny had seen friendlier smiles on hungry wolves. He pointed his wand and yelled another incomprehensible word, and she felt herself being forced to dance in place.

Nick was worried behind his outward show of confidence. If he hadn't been wearing his Arrows-of-Chaos pendant with its permanent _Protego_, the strange witch's first attack would have knocked him arse over teakettle, if he was any judge. That said, he hadn't been one of Professor Flitwick's proteges for nothing…and one thing that the diminutive Head of Ravenclaw taught his favorite pupils was duelling. "I'll not have it said that a Ravenclaw went down to the first tramp with a wand that they ran across…not on my watch they won't!"

Instinctively, he threw up the strongest shield he could, then went with a _Tarantellegra_, figuring to keep this strange witch off, at least, while he probed her defenses and figured out just how powerful she was. He didn't want to hurt her; he didn't know but that she was on legitimate business, but no one came into his camp demanding Luna without satisfying him, Nicholas Cleveland, that their business was legitimate! And if that meant a fight…well, he figured he could use the practice, and having a target to focus his fear and anger on would feel very good, indeed.

END Chapter 04


	5. Chapter 5

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Chapter 05

by Technomad

Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland, Earth

Professor Flitwick had had the magical monitors that told him of Nick Cleveland's well-being moved to his office. When one of them started emitting a shrill whistle, he was in the middle of grading Charms homework. He started slightly, then stared at the monitor, before snapping: "House elf!" When the diminutive creature appeared, he told it: "Go get Professors Snape and Dumbledore! The monitors have gone off!"

"Yes, Master! I does that!" With that, the elf disappeared. In a few minutes, Snape came sweeping through Flitwick's office door.

"I do trust this is important, Filius?" He saw the monitor, and his black eyes went very wide. "Ah, I see. You were correct to alert me. I do wonder whether this could be used to trace our errant students' whereabouts?"

"I don't know, but I believe it would be unwise to try," put in Professor Dumbledore, who had just come in. "Does it say just how Mr. Cleveland is in danger?"

Flitwick looked at the monitor, and then pulled out a booklet from his desk. "It appears to indicate that he's in a fight." The Charms professor shook his head sadly. "He's tricky as can be, and an excellent student…but this may be one test he can't pass easily. The fact that the fight's gone on for some time tells me a lot."

_Lancre, the Discworld_

Nick Cleveland was getting worried. His _Protego_ spell was holding up, but just barely. He had never dealt with anybody with as much raw power to throw around as this old witch, and his spells didn't seem to bite on her as effectively as he'd have wished. With what little part of his attention he could spare from his predicament, he cursed Gilderoy Lockhart, Quirinus Quirrel and the other useless "Defence professors" he'd been saddled with. He needed more offensive magic, and didn't have a lot to work with!

What he did have, though, he could use very effectively. His enemy had been taken off-guard by his _Tarantallegra_, and had danced helplessly for a few seconds while getting her equilibrium back, allowing Nick to figure out his next move. His _Reducto_s had bounced off a shield she apparently had, but had done damage to the landscape; she had to know she was in a real fight.

Playing for time, Nick tried a tactic of desperation. He had never cast this spell under anything like real combat conditions, but he was willing to try anything. Summoning up the memory of the first time he and Melinda had kissed, he waved his wand and screamed "_Expecto Patronum_!" For a wonder, the spell worked perfectly, as his totem-animal leaped from the end of his wand and charged at his enemy.

Granny Weatherwax was not _worried_. She was, however, rapidly becoming _concerned_. Whoever this strange wizard was, he was skilled. The spells he had tried to hit her with hadn't penetrated her defenses, but she had noticed just how much damage they did to the surroundings. She figured that if she hadn't had her shields up, she'd have been splattered very effectively.

Whatever she tried to pound the stranger's shields with, they held up. She hadn't had to draw on so much magical power in a long time, and wondered with one part of her mind just how far she could go. She knew that too much magic was dangerous.

Just then, the stranger screamed some more words in that language she didn't know, and an unmistakable wolverine…silvery, but a wolverine nonetheless…leaped from the end of his wand and charged at her, snarling its rage. She threw a shield up to stop it, but the beast seemed undaunted, throwing itself at the shield again and again. With the power she could spare, she slashed at the creature, until it dissolved in a silvery mist. She had never seen such a spell in her life. If she'd been an Unseen University wizard, she'd have wanted to investigate it. As it was, she was in a contest, and she only knew one way for a contest to win. "Good try," "nice second place," and other such concepts were nonexistent in her mind, at least insofar as they could be applied to her.

Nick was horrified to see his Patronus dispelled so easily; he knew that he cast one of the better corporeal Patronuses at Hogwarts, at least outside of what the teachers could do. He thought of Luna, and of Melinda, with a second's worth of regret…and then threw everything he had into a furious barrage of offensive spells. As his magic lashed out, he threw back his head and screamed the ancient battle cry his distant ancestors had terrified the European coastal population with:

"_Yuch-hey-saa-saa-saa! Yuch-hey-saa-saa-saa!"_

_Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland_, Earth

Flitwick went pale with fear when he heard the unearthly scream echoing through one of the monitors. "Oh, dear! That means that Mr. Cleveland is in very bad trouble, and fighting for his very life!"

"What does it mean, Filius?" That was Snape. Dumbledore's eyes had gone very wide when he heard, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"_That_, Severus, is an old Viking war chant. Mr. Cleveland's mother told him that his father and grandfather taught him it…and taught him that it is _only_ to be used when the alternatives are death or glory! The exact phrase she used was 'Valhalla or victory,' but I knew what she meant." Flitwick shook his head. "I hope that Mr. Cleveland's either wrong about the depth of his difficulties, or is able to pull off a victory!"

Another yell came through: "_Ho la,Odhinn! Ho la, Loki!"_

"And now Mr. Cleveland is calling on his gods for aid," murmured Professor Dumbledore sadly. "He's _Asatru_, although not usually pious. He feels that the High Ones, as he calls them, are too important to bother with his mortal woes unless things are truly desperate. Usually, he contents himself with minor offerings to the spirits of place."

Snape looked away. "If his gods can hear him, I hope they can help him!"

Lancre, the Discworld

Nick was beginning to despair of victory. Whatever he threw at her, this strange witch was able to counter, and she had some tricks he'd never seen before. She had cast some tricky things on his mind, and only the Occlumency training that his mother had ensured he received had saved him from succumbing. As it was, it had been a close-run thing, and he still had to struggle to remember who and what he was sometimes.

_Aye, well…guess it's pork chops at Odhinn's table tonight for me!_ Nick felt his lips peel back in an insane smile, as he gathered everything he wasn't throwing into his shields and launched an all-out, berserker attack. _"Yuch-hey-saa-saa-saa! Ho la, Odhinn! Ho la, Loki," _he screamed at the top of his lungs. He hoped that the Alfadhur, who had first learned magic, and the trickster-god who was his particular patron would not scorn his last fight.

Granny Weatherwax barely managed to contain the onslaught. She had almost never in her whole career been on the receiving end of such a wild barrage of spell-work. However, her shields held…just very barely, but they held…and she lashed out with all the power she had at her disposal.

To her delight, it worked, finally breaking through the stranger's defenses. With a nearly-soundless crackle of magical energy, it threw the strange wizard backward, his chest smoking and his eyes rolling back in his head, to lie senseless on the shingle.

Just as Granny was stepping forward to examine her fallen enemy, she was distracted by a wild scream of rage and hatred, and she turned…

Luna Lovegood had been having a very pleasant day. Nick had cut her lessons short, saying he had some projects of his own to get on with, and she had gone wandering off, looking for flowers to pick. She liked weaving flowers into chains, and thought that they livened up their camp considerably. While she still missed her Daddy, and her dorm-mates and cousins at Hogwarts, she did acknowledge that Nicholas was taking very good care of her.

She had noticed that he always made sure she got the more tender pieces of the game that they caught, and that if they were a little short of food, Nicholas would suddenly "not feel well" and leave her the larger share of what there was. She hoped that they'd get back to Hogwarts soon; she thought that her Daddy would be pleased to hear about how well Nicholas looked after her. He'd also be happy to know how much her magic had improved. There was nothing like intensive one-on-one tutoring, she had found.

Suddenly, she realized what she was hearing in the distance. From the sounds, it was a magical duel, and a ferocious one at that! Her eyes went even wider than they usually were. She knew that Nicholas was a good hand at sorcerous combat, so she didn't expect the fight to go on long. After a few minutes, she began running back toward their campsite. Nicholas was in trouble!

When she arrived, she took one look at what had happened and let out a scream of rage and hatred. Nicholas was lying on his back, his chest smoking where Luna knew that his Arrows-of-Chaos pendant hung, his eyes closed and trickles of blood coming out of his mouth and nostrils. A strange old witch was bending over him, and she turned toward Luna, her eyes widening with surprise.

"Nicholas!" Luna ran as hard as she ever had in her life, pulling out her wand as she pelted toward her friend. She reached his side, and pulled the pendant out from under his shirt; it was still hot, but not as hot as it apparently had been. Luna looked up at the strange witch, and felt uncharacteristic rage roil up in her heart. Her lips twisted into a snarl.

"You…hurt…my…_friend_!" Nicholas' wand was lying nearby, and Luna grabbed it up, pointing both wands at the unknown witch. "You hurt my friend…so I'm going to hurt _you_!" She raised her own wand to cast a spell, while waving Nicholas' wand with her other hand to cast a wordless _Protego_ on herself.

Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland, Earth

One of the monitors in Flitwick's office began emitting a shrill alarm. Flitwick looked at it, and went white. "Oh, dear…Mr. Cleveland's down, and unconscious!"

Snape shook his head. "I hope you are looking forward to explaining this to his parents. They will not be pleased."

Lancre, the Discworld

Granny Weatherwax was seldom at a loss. This time, however…the girl she had been looking for had shown up, and she was anything but glad to see Granny. She was just as hostile as her companion, if not more. Her silvery eyes were hard and her posture screamed that she was not about to be trifled with. The most unnerving thing about her was her eerily calm expression.

Granny decided to try a little headology. "Come now, little miss, there ain't no need for playin' with them nasty magic wands…" This attempt was greeted with a magical blast that would have knocked Granny spinning, if her shields had been down. Her eyes widened. _Apparently this little miss needs a lesson in respectin' her elders_…

Just as Granny gathered her forces, a familiar voice from above startled her enough to stop her.

"Esmeralda Weatherwax! Have you gone mad? What d'you think you're doin', duelin' with that sweet little girl!" With a thump, Nanny Ogg came in for a landing, giving Granny a very hard stare.

END Chapter 05


	6. Chapter 6

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Chapter Six

Lancre, the Discworld

Nanny Ogg was seldom startled. She was very much a witch of the world, and between an active social life in her younger days, and a huge family, there was very little that was new to her. However, every so often something did come up. Like right then.

She could see pretty easily that the young girl who was confronting Esme Weatherwax was nobody to be trifled with. Her silvery eyes were hard and cold, and her body language radiated determination as she stood between Esme and the young man Esme had apparently downed. For a second, Nanny regretted that she hadn't been the one to find these two. She still appreciated a well-put-together young man, even if she didn't do anything active about it any more…_much_…and she'd have liked the chance to make his acquaintance.

She could also see that these people were not local at all. Their gear was primitive, most of it cobbled together out of whatever had been lying about. The shelter they had been using would have been rejected with scorn by the poorest Lancre peasant. And the vessel that the young man had apparently been working on was like nothing she had ever seen. She was extremely curious about these strange foreign sorcerers.

Unfortunately, Esme with her stubborn ways had apparently spilt the perfume into the soup with these strangers. Turning to her old friend, Nanny hissed: "Stand _down_, Esme. Let me handle this." She knew she was more reassuring than Esme was, and often used that to her advantage. Esme may have had more raw skill at "headology," but Nanny was no slouch at it. Granny scowled, but stepped back, giving Nanny the floor.

Smiling placatingly, Nanny stepped forward, keeping her hands empty. "Now, there, little miss, what's all this rumpus about?"

Ooo

Luna Lovegood was fairly sure she was going to die. She could sense how powerful the old witch who looked like Professor McGonagall was, and the new witch…who reminded Luna very much of Professor Sprout…wasn't far behind. Luna knew that she was well up on spells, but she was under no illusions whatsoever about what would have happened had she challenged either teacher, much less both of them, to a duel.

Nonetheless, she set her jaw and gripped her wand, and Nick's, which she'd picked up off the strand, tightly. Luna had no fear of death. After all, she'd see her Mummy again, and she was sure that her Mummy would be delighted to see her and want to know about everything she'd done. At the same time, leaving Daddy behind would break her heart as well as his.

When the Professor-Sprout-alike witch spoke to her, Luna felt obliged to answer. She was proud that her voice didn't shake as she spoke. "I am _not_ your 'little miss,' whoever you are. My name is Luna Lovegood, and _that_ old witch _hurt my friend_!"

Ooo

"Oh! Beg pardon, I'm sure! I'm Nanny Ogg, and this is Granny Weatherwax. What's all this about 'hurtin' your friend?'" Nanny was fairly sure she knew what had happened, from years and years of acquaintance with Esmeralda Weatherwax, but she wanted confirmation.

Little Miss Lovegood narrowed her eyes and gestured. Since she had a wand in that hand, Nanny took a step back. "I was gathering flowers, when I heard an almighty uproar here at our camp. I came running hot-foot back here, just in time to see her blast him back hard, and he's out cold. He'd never let his wand go otherwise."

Nanny Ogg gave Granny Weatherwax a look. "Well, Esme? What do you have to say? It ain't like you, pickin' on people just for nothin', now is it?"

Esme raised one eyebrow. "I was flyin' around, seein' that everythin's the way it ought to be after our little trip, when I came across this camp. It warn't there before, an' I could tell there was a girl there what had talent. I landed, an' asked for her. He wouldn't give her to me, and pulled a wand."

"You _asked_ for her," Nanny said, shaking her head. "Why did you think that he'd just give her to you?"

"Everybody knows the rules," Granny snorted. "A young'un with witch potential needs trainin', an' that can only come from a witch. Havin' a man train a young witch…t'ain't natural. Goes agin the order of things." She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. "An' I can't be havin' with someone tellin' me 'no!'"

Miss Lovegood narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Well, we didn't know of any such 'rules!' We don't even know where we are! We don't really even belong here!"

At this assertion, both witches' eyes went very wide. "You don't belong here? Then where _do_ you belong? Ankh-Morpork? The Ramtops?"

Miss Lovegood shook her head. "I've never heard of those places. We're from Hogwarts. It's the greatest school of magic in the world. It's in Scotland…in the Highlands, right near the all-magical town of Hogsmeade."

Nanny Ogg exchanged a glance with Granny Weatherwax, who shook her head. "Well, neither of us ever heard of such places. Will you let me look at your friend?" Miss Lovegood's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I promise, I ain't plannin' to hurt him. One thing we witches do is nursin' sick folks."

"Very well…go ahead." Miss Lovegood stood away, watching like a hawk as Nanny bent over her friend. When she straightened, she caught Granny Weatherwax' eye and shook her head slightly.

"I don't know, Esme. I think we better get Magrat here." At Granny Weatherwax' scowl, she went on: "I know…but she's probably better at some kinds of doctorin' than we are."

A little while later, Magrat Garlick came in for a landing. Her eyes went wide at the scene that greeted her, and she leaped off her broom, running over to the prone form on the sand. "Did this fool challenge Granny Weatherwax?"

"Er…not exactly. I was flyin' by, when I noticed that there was a girl here, one with real talent, needin' trainin'. I landed, an' asked for her. This chap here," indicating Magrat's newest patient, "wouldn't give me her, an' things got a little out of control."

"A 'little out of control?' It looks to me like it escalated into a full-blown duel. I'm surprised…I wouldn't have thought that _any_ wizard, particularly such a young one, would be able to give you any trouble, Granny." Magrat looked around, to find herself being examined with great interest by a wispy blonde with big silvery eyes. "Or was it you that did all the damage?"

"No, ma'am, I didn't. I just shielded myself. Nicholas, here, was the one doing the fighting." She gave Magrat a sunny smile. "He was protecting me."

"Protecting you?"

"Oh yes. Nicholas has been protecting me ever since we got to this place…where ever it might be. By the bye, do _you_ know where we are?"

This startled all three witches. "You're in Lancre, dear. A few miles from the town of Bad Ass, where Granny Weatherwax, here, lives," said Nanny Ogg, indicating Granny, who nodded firmly.

"Oh. We didn't know where we are. Even the stars here are different. Nicholas had planned to go downstream if we were here for much longer; he didn't fancy trying to winter over here. He figured we'd sooner-or-later hit a town, and we could make a living there, one way or another."

"How long have you two been here?" This was Granny Weatherwax. Her affronted pride had given way to curiosity. "An' how'd you come to be here, anyway?"

"Nicholas was working with an experimental Portkey, and something went wrong. We found ourselves here. Good job he knows how to live in the wilderness. We've been here since late spring, local time."

Nanny Ogg was impressed. She knew that it took skill to live as comfortably as they had apparently been, when completely cut off from civilization. "He's been' takin' care of you?"

"Yes, ma'am," the blonde answered. "He took over teaching me…we were at school when the accident happened. I've learned ever so much!" Nanny started to giggle, only to stifle it quickly when the blonde girl raised one of her wands. She knew wands were dangerous.

Magrat looked up. "He ain't in good shape. I'm surprised he's still breathin'. I guess it must not be his time yet."

IT ISN'T.

The witches turned to greet the newcomer. "Oh. It's you. Maybe you can tell us who these people are?" asked Granny Weatherwax.

I MUST CONFESS I AM AS IGNORANT AS YOU ARE. I DON'T EVEN HAVE LIFETIMERS FOR EITHER OF THEM.

"Oh, hello," the blonde girl said, wandering over fearlessly. "Have you come for me or Nicholas? If we both go together, I can introduce him to my Mummy. You took her when I was nine. She'll be glad to meet him. He took good care of me."

NO. I SHALL CONSULT MY COLLEAGUES. ONE OF THEM WILL PROBABLY RECOGNIZE YOU, AND WE CAN RETURN YOU TO YOUR OWN WORLD.

The first "colleague" to appear took the form of a handsome, sad-faced young man. A brief colloquy followed…none of the witches could hear what was said…and the young man shook his head, before disappearing.

SO NOW WE KNOW THEY DID NOT COME FROM NEWHON. LET ME SEE- and a pale-skinned young woman in clothes that all the witches found outlandish, in different ways, appeared.

She raised an eyebrow as she squatted down by the fallen wizard's side. "Yep. He's one of mine, and so's his friend. It's not their time yet, though."

GOOD. I SHALL LEAVE THINGS IN YOUR CAPABLE HANDS, MY DEAR.

The pale girl turned. "I can get these two back to their own time and place…and I think it'd be interesting to take you ladies along. Seeing how other people do things will broaden your horizons. She gestured…and all of them, the unconscious wizard, his blonde friend, and the Lancre Coven, found themselves standing on a beautiful greensward, just outside a huge castle.

End Chapter 06


	7. Chapter 7

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Chapter 07

by Technomad

_Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland, United Kingdom, Earth_

Marlie Lovegood was in a very good mood. She had just won an award for some extra-credit work she'd done in her favourite class, Transfiguration, and was walking around the grounds of Hogwarts with Professor McGonnagal, and, as an extra treat, her aunt Narcissa. Her mother's sister normally couldn't acknowledge her, due to her husband's hatred of halfbloods such as herself, but since Lucius Malfoy was out of the country, and Narcissa could never resist her son Draco's entreaties, she was out with Draco and Marlie.

All of a sudden, a shimmering, sparkling patch of glowing light appeared in front of the three witches, coalescing into a group of people. One of them, the only male in the group, was lying on the ground, bleeding from his nose and mouth. The others included a tall, dignified witch with a pronounced resemblance to Professor McGonagall, a round, dumpy witch who looked rather like an older version of Professor Sprout, and a wispy witch with flyaway hair who reminded Marlie somehow of Professor Trelawney. Beside them stood none other than her missing cousin, Luna Lovegood!

Luna's eyes went even wider than usual when she saw who it was. "Marlie! Get help! Nick's hurt bad!"

Marlie looked more closely at the prone man, and her eyes went wide. It was indeed Nick Cleveland, and it looked as though the Machiavellian Ravenclaw had been in a fight that he had lost very badly. Marlie was no Healer, but her mother was a high-ranking member of the Department of Dark Arts Eradication, and she had told Marlie enough for her to see that Nick needed help fast.

Professor McGonagall could also see that Nick was hurt. She whipped out her wand and summoned her messenger-Patronus, sending it winging toward the nearby castle. "I have called Madame Pomfrey, and Professor Snape," she explained at Marlie's questioning look. "You do know that Professor Snape's a Healer, among his other qualifications, do you not?"

Marlie nodded. She glared at the three newcomers. She and Nick had had their differences, but she found him attractive, and respected him for his intelligence and Machiavellian tendencies. He had easily set Slytherin House against itself once, after they had been waging a prank war against the Ravenclaws. The consensus in the Serpents' Nest was that the Sorting Hat had been off its game when he was Sorted. More than once, she had heard her older Housemates lament that his talent for intrigue had "gone to waste" in Ravenclaw.

Beside her, her Aunt Narcissa was beginning to get steamed. Drawing herself up to her full, elegant six-foot height, she stared down her nose at the newcomers. "Dare I ask just _how_ Mr. Cleveland was so injured?"

The tall old witch gave her back stare for stare. "He wouldn't give me that young'un there," she said, pointing to Luna, who was giving her a glare that should have laid her out on the greensward, dead. "I landed where he was campin', asked for her, and…things got a bit heated."

Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared. "Mr. Cleveland, _and_ Miss Lovegood, are both pupils at this school," she said, superbly disdainful. "As such, they come under _my _authority, as Assistant Headmistress. Who are you, to demand to take Miss Lovegood away, and assault Mr. Cleveland when he refused to turn her over?"

"She needs trainin'," the old witch answered. "Can't be havin' with her bein' trained by a man. Just ain't right." She looked up at the castle. "Can't be havin' with this school nonsense. Witches learns from other witches. That's the way it's always been. He shouldn't have told me 'no,' should he?"

"Miss Lovegood _is_ receiving training," Professor McGonagall said icily, "at the _best_ academy for witchcraft and wizardry in the _world_. While they were gone, I rather imagine Mr. Cleveland tried to help her keep up with her studies…as was only right and proper."

"And the Malfoy family owes Nicholas Cleveland a debt of honour," Narcissa put in, her eyes like chips of blue ice. "He could have called for our son's expulsion from school, but instead added his voice to his girlfriend's pleas for mercy. A Malfoy always pays his, _or her_, debts."

The tension built and built, as both trios of witches stared daggers at each other, until a familiar voice broke in.

"Ladies! Ladies! There's no need for a duel!" Professor Dumbledore had come, along with Madame Pomfrey. The Healer knelt by Nick's side, as the Headmaster took control of the situation.

"I see our missing pupils are back. I take it we have you ladies to thank for that?" The tall old witch shook her head.

"'Twasn't us. We were…sent…here, along with this young feller an' this girl." Professor Dumbledore looked at the tallest newcomer, who seemed to be the spokes-witch for them.

"And you are…?"

"I'm Esmeralda Weatherwax. This is Gytha Ogg, an' behind us, this is Magrat Garlick."

"A pleasure to meet you ladies. I'm Albus Dumbledore…I'm the Headmaster of this school. This…" pointing at Professor McGonagall, who had drawn herself up to her full height…"is Minerva McGonagall, my most able Assistant Headmistress, and Madame Narcissa Malfoy, the mother of one of our pupils, and Miss Marlene Lovegood, another of our pupils."

Madame Pomfrey looked up. "I need to get this boy…and Miss Lovegood-from-Ravenclaw…into the infirmary. _Stat_!" She waved her wand in a complicated pattern, and both Ravenclaws vanished. The three newcomers gaped.

"I know. You can't do Apparation on Hogwarts grounds," Professor Dumbledore said. "However, that is not Apparation. That is a special power given only to the Chief Healer of this fine institution. Now, shall we repair to my office, where we can all find out what's been going on?" For a few seconds, the façade slipped…this was no kindly old crackpot. This was a man in full command. Everybody nodded, and adjourned to the castle.

OOO

Nick Cleveland found himself floating in a strange limbo. At first, he was too disoriented to take any notice, but gradually, he began to try to figure out his surroundings. _I need a surface_, he thought, and instantly, found himself lying on a perfectly flat surface. He rolled over, shook himself, and clambered painfully to his feet, to find himself confronted by a strange young girl.

Nick looked the girl over, as she was doing the same to him. She was wearing what he recognized as "Goth" fashions, and had the palest skin he had ever seen. Under one eye, she had black makeup giving the effect of an "Eye of Horus," and she wore an _ankh_ around her neck. Reflexively, Nick grabbed for his Arrows-of-Chaos pendant.

"It was melted in your last fight, Nicholas," the girl informed him, her voice light, yet sad. "It overloaded. I must say, though, it worked remarkably well."

Nick scowled. He had imbued that pendant with every bit of protective magic he could think of, and everything he could dig out of Hogwarts' extensive library, not to mention his own, which held quite a few tomes the Ministry would have loved to burn. "Am I…dead?"

"No, Nicholas. It's not your time yet. You were very badly hurt, though. You're back at Hogwarts."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "How about Luna? Is she all right?" He began looking around for his blonde protégé, more worried with every second that he didn't find her. Whirling, he confronted the Goth girl. "Tell me! Tell me where she is, or I'll…"

"Miss Luna Lovegood is also at Hogwarts. She's nearly completely unscathed, but your Healers are checking her over, in between trying to revive you."

Nick nearly collapsed in relief. Then he noticed that he was naked. He looked up at the Goth girl, to see her giving him an amused once-over. He figured that she expected him to be upset. Well…Nick Cleveland had always specialized in doing the unexpected thing. He straightened up, and gave her a frankly appraising look, liking what he saw. While he was monogamous, and happy that way, he had often said that "monogamous" was not French for "blind," or "stupid."

The Goth girl's eyes widened. "Did you think you were the _first_, or the _only_, woman I've been naked around?" Nick asked, blandly. He gave her a mischevious grin. "You know, a _truly_ polite person would offer to _disrobe_, so that I needn't be self-conscious."

At this, the Goth girl broke out in laughter. "Oh, dear! I think you're about to leave, or I honestly might consider your offer!" Sure enough, Nick felt himself begin to fade away.

As he faded, Nick asked blandly: "Don't I even rate a good-bye kiss?"

The Goth girl winked at him. "Don't press your luck too far, Nicholas. It's not your time yet." And then Nick found himself lying in a bed in what he recognized as the Hogwarts infirmary. Professor Snape was leaning over him, his face drawn and weary.

As Nick opened his eyes and let out a soft groan, Snape turned. "Poppy! He's conscious!" He turned back to Nick. "Lie still, Mr. Cleveland. You've been missing for months, and we've been terribly worried. Is there anything you want?"

Nick considered this. "Yes….can you call…Professor McGonagall?"

End Chapter 07


	8. Chapter 8

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Chapter 8

by Technomad

Minerva McGonagall was seldom at a loss for words. However, this situation was one she had never thought to find herself facing, and she couldn't think of anything to say. From what the strange witches said, as well as Professors Vector and Flitwick, Nick Cleveland had stumbled across the secret of inter-world transportation via Portkey!

The more she found out, the more agog she was. When one of the house-elves popped up behind her, saying "Mistress Assistant Headmistress, you is wanted down in the sickbay! Mister Flying-Schemer is asking for you!" she was just finishing contacting Luna's father. Nick's parents had been contacted earlier; they had stayed on in Britain while their son was missing. McGonagall gave a silent sigh of relief that Nick had been found; Asgeirr Cleveland had fully intended to carry through on his threats of carving the "blood-eagle" on whoever he thought was responsible for his oldest boy's disappearance.

It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out who the elf meant. As she went down toward Madam Pomfrey's domain, McGonagall wondered what Nick could possibly want. The last she knew, he had been terribly weak and unconscious.

When she came in, she saw that Asgeirr and Grace Cleveland had arrived. "So good to see you! Apparently Mr. Cleveland-your-son is apparently recovering consciousness, and he's asked to see me."

"We'll all go in together," said Asgeirr. "I heard he'd been hurt in a duel. I must admit I'm surprised to hear it; those protective amulets he worked up should have protected him from any normal wizard or witch. Was he fighting You-Know-Who?" The Norwegian wizard looked very worried.

"No, Mr. Cleveland. He wasn't even on our world. Mr. Cleveland-your-son inadvertently discovered inter-world Portkey transportation. The witch he was fighting…she's upstairs with Professor Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector." She opened the door to the sickbay. "Here's Madam Pomfrey. She can tell us if Mr. Cleveland's really fit to receive visitors."

Nick was lying in a hospital bed, with Professor Snape working over him. Snape looked up and gave them a haggard smile. "Hello, Minerva, Grace, Mr. Cleveland. Mr. Cleveland the younger's stable, and conscious."

"And able to know when you're talking about me like I was part of the furniture," Nick rasped. At this, everybody's eyes turned toward the bed. "Hi, Mum, Dad. Sorry to be so much trouble. Next time I'll check those _stupid_ equations better."

"Never you mind that! I'm just glad you're alive!" Grace launched herself toward her son, hugging him as hard as she dared. "I was so worried…I knew you were alive, but didn't know where…I had visions of you lost, unable to find food…"

"We were in a forest by a lake, Mrs. Cleveland," piped up Luna Lovegood, who had come wandering in to see what the fuss was about. "Nick knows _everything_ about wilderness survival, at least with magic to help, and we ate and lived pretty well, I thought."

Asgeirr and Grace both stared. "You must be little Miss Lovegood…the one that he and Melinda took under his wing?" At Luna's nod, they both descended on Luna. "Oh, sweetheart! How could anybody have had the heart to be cruel to you, you poor motherless thing?" lamented Grace. She hugged Luna tightly.

"There are lots of times I would like to throttle Nick," commented Asgeirr, wiping at his eyes, "but there are also lots of times I'm very proud of him. This is one of them."

Grace had unwrapped herself from around Luna, and turned toward her son. "Nick…sweetheart…why did you want to see Professor McGonagall? Why not Professor Flitwick? He's your Head of House, after all…" Asgeirr raised one eyebrow and waited for Nick's answer.

"Wanted…to thank her…" Nick mumbled. He reached out and took Minerva's hand. "You…taught me Transfiguration. Real lifesaver. Used it every day, in all sorts of ways. I'll…write it up…when I'm feeling better."

"I was just doing my duty by you, Mr. Cleveland. I was rather surprised that you did well enough on your OWLs to join my advanced classes, but I was told that the good Miss Yang forced you to study systematically for once. Unlike most of your studies, this doesn't come easily to you."

"Came in…useful," Nick whispered. "Turned…fish guts…into good things to eat. Remembered…edible stuff to edible stuff…easier to do, and less dangerous."

Minerva straightened, to find herself looking into Grace's eyes. The two women shared a moment of complete understanding. "A teacher can't ask for a finer reward," Grace remarked, before she hugged Minerva. Minerva couldn't answer her; it was all she could do to not burst out crying. She had never expected to hear such words, particularly from Nick, who had always struggled in her class.

"I heard that Mr. Cleveland, my daughter's friend, is awake," came a voice, and they all turned to see Mr. Lovegood. "I wanted to thank him for keeping my daughter alive."

"Not…a problem…Mr. Lovegood," Nick mumbled. "Just…remembered all I've been taught. Rest…was easy."

"He taught me ever so much about how to survive in the wilderness!" Luna piped up. "He said that he'd been taught those tricks from the time he could walk."

"There never was a Ravenclaw but was a teacher at heart," Minerva remarked. "They have a system in that House where the upper-level students help the firsties and second-years with their studies. In Ravenclaw, anybody who's having trouble is expected to let others know, and there'll be help for him or her."

Just then, Madame Pomfrey came in, leading Nick's girlfriend, Melinda. The Chinese girl looked dreadful; she was wearing nothing but a stained sleep-robe, and she looked half-starved. "The poor thing…" murmured Mrs. Cleveland. "What happened to her?"

"When she found out that your son had disappeared, she went nearly catatonic," Madame Pomfrey answered. "We had a job on our hands keeping her alive."

Melinda's eyes were wide, and stared at nothing…until they lit on Luna, and Nick. Suddenly, life and intelligence came flooding back in, and she threw herself at the bed. Madame Pomfrey and Mrs. Cleveland held her back before she could land straight on Nick, but she held her hands out, running them over his face as tears streamed from her eyes. "You're…alive…" she whispered. "I didn't…know…if I'd ever see you…again…"

"Don't cry, Melinda," said Luna. She approached Melinda fearlessly; she, unlike nearly all Hogwarts students, had no fear whatsoever of Melinda, despite her reputation for insanely intense rages. "Please don't cry. Nick was with me, and he took good care of me."

Melinda turned and focussed on Luna, and grabbed the younger girl, hugging her as hard as she could, while she finally gave in to the release of weeping. Her whole body shook as she sobbed out her relief and the terrible fear that had paralysed her for so long. Luna hugged her back, crying. This was unusual; Luna normally did not show much emotion. "There, there, Melinda, sometimes it's good to cry. Everything's going to be all right."

After a little while, Melinda straightened, wiping her eyes. In a hoarse voice, she asked: "How did he come to be so injured?" Her face twisted in a diabolical smile. "_Whoever_ did this will answer to me!"

"Got…in a duel." Nick slowly opened his pyjama top, showing her a burn on his chest the exact shape of an Arrows-of-Chaos pendant. "Lost. Got this thing melted in the fight. Overloaded."

"Merciful Buddha!" Melinda's red-rimmed eyes went wide with wonder. "You wrapped that thing with every bit of protective magic you could think of…and can't you think, just?" She shook her head slowly. "Who could have done such a thing?"

"Apparently Mr. Cleveland fell afoul of a very high-ranking witch in the country where he and Miss Lovegood-from-Ravenclaw ended up," Madame Pomfrey explained. "She landed at his campsite and asked for Miss Lovegood; in that country, women are trained by women and men by men, and she thought it unfitting that Miss Lovegood should be under Mr. Cleveland's protection. He wouldn't give her up, and a fight broke out."

"I'll want to meet this witch, soon," decided Melinda. She gave a prodigious yawn. "I'll show her who isn't allowed to meddle with my boyfriend!"

"Right now, Melinda, I think you need to get some sleep," Luna said. She tugged at Melinda's hand, towing her along toward the ward door. "I'll see you back to your bed. You don't look like you've had a decent night's sleep since we've been gone."

"Very well…I admit, I'm very short on sleep," Melinda said. "Will you stay with me till I drop off?" For a second, the mask the Chinese girl almost always wore slipped away, and the adults could see a vulnerable child behind it, a child terrified of abandonment.

Luna saw it, too…little ever got past her, for all her spacey demeanor. "I'll do you one better, Melinda. I'll crawl on in with you and stay with you till you wake up. I need sleep, too." With that, she pulled Melinda off toward a bed.

Madame Pomfrey looked at the others…Minerva McGonagall, Asgeirr and Grace Cleveland, and Mr. Lovegood. In a low voice, she said: "One of these days, I hope to meet the people who mistreated that lovely young lady." She fingered her wand, and smiled ominously. "I…dislike…people who could twist and warp a sweet, intelligent child so."

"After she marries our son, I think quite a few of us want to have a talk with her mother, and her cousins," said Asgeirr Cleveland. "She'll be considered a member of our family once she and Nick are married…and the Clevelands take a _dim_ view of anybody who hurts one of us."

"She protects my little girl," murmured Mr. Lovegood. "When the day comes, call me; I'll be there!"

END Chapter 08


	9. Chapter 9

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre, Chapter 09

by Technomad

A little while later, Luna Lovegood awoke from a doze to find her two cousins from Slytherin were in the room. "Hi, Marlie! Hi, Draco! It's good to see you again!" She gave the Slytherins a beaming smile.

"It's good to see you, too, Luna," Draco answered; he'd helped take Luna under his wing when her plight had first been brought to his attention. "You do look pretty good for someone who's been lost in the wilderness for months!"

"Oh, that was easy! Nicholas took care of me! He knows everything about how to stay alive in the woods, and made sure I always had plenty to eat!"

"And I bet he took care of you in other ways, too," Marlie teased.

Luna gave her cousin a puzzled look. "What do you mean, Marlie?"

"Look, you've just lived every straight girl's fantasy. Alone in the wilderness with a handsome guy who cares about you and would do anything at all for you…right now every girl in Hogwarts is wishing she were in your shoes!" Marlie gave her cousin a teasing smile. "I mean, you are a little young for that…but you look like you got through it just fine!" Draco looked from one girl to the other, as a blush spread across his face.

"Oh, you think Nicholas and I had _sex_?" Luna shook her head. "No. Never. Even when he saw me coming out from swimming without my clothes, he never laid a hand on me." She gave them both a beaming smile. "He was a perfect gentleman. I don't think Professor McGonagall could have complained of his behavior!"

"You've got to be kidding!" Marlie was gobsmacked. She'd been through a good few boyfriends, and if there was one thing she was sure of about teenaged guys, it was that they were all mad for sex. "No, you aren't, are you?" She shook her head. She and her cousin were not close, but she knew that Luna did not ever lie directly. If she said she and Nick hadn't had sex, they hadn't had sex. "What would you have done if he had wanted to? You say he saw you without your clothes on…"

"If he had wanted to, I'd have done it," Luna said, "but you know as well as I do that for Nicholas, there's only one woman in the world…and I am not her, am I?" She looked poignant for an instant. "I wish I were pretty, like you, Marlie, or like Melinda…"

"Don't say things like that, Luna," Draco broke in. "You're pretty like _Luna_, and that's all you'll ever need. And I'm glad to hear that Nick is a gentleman." Draco Malfoy was fiercely protective of the women in his family; people who even spoke unkindly of them had a tendency to end up having "an interview" with the blond Slytherin and his two tame goons. Even so, he did not relish the idea of tangling with Nick Cleveland. The Ravenclaw had a well-earned reputation for ingenious revenges.

As they turned to go, Marlie shook her head ruefully. "Count on you, Luna, to be different. You're the only girl I know who could come back from that sort of experience a virgin."

000

Nick's mother came in, to find him sitting up and reading. On the table beside his bed were dozens of "Get Well!" cards, mostly from other Ravenclaws, although all four Houses were represented. "Well. It looks like you're on the mend. When you're too ill to read, I know things are very bad indeed."

Nick closed his book to give his mother his full attention. "Yeah, I'm feeling better. I feel kind of bad, having had to put Madame Pomfrey and poor old Professor Snape through all that work just on my account."

"Never you mind that. That's their job." Grace Cleveland gave her son a look. "And what's all that about 'poor old Professor Snape,' dear?"

Nick sighed at his parent's obtuseness. "It's obvious, isn't it? 'Poor'…who ever heard of a teacher who made money, or had any? If he had money he wouldn't be within a thousand miles of here!" Grace quirked a smile. She _had_ expressed displeasure at the low salaries she had earned while teaching…Meanwhile, her son was going on: "As for 'old,' look, Mum, he had a grandson or something like that who was in school with you! He was mixed up with the last Russian Tsar, and _that_ happened in 1917!"

This was unexpected. "How do you come to that conclusion, love?"

Nick pulled out a book from his bookbag; as soon as he'd been returned, Marietta Edgecombe had brought it to the infirmary. Grace had been there when the familiar reinforced-leather bag bulging with books had arrived, and had heard Marietta's explanation that "If he wakes up and it's not where he can grab it, he'll be up to our Tower looking for it, and Madame Pomfrey will slaughter us for letting that happen!" She had suppressed a smile; that _did_ sound like her son.

"See, Mum?" Nick had opened _Daily Life at the Russian Court under the Last Tsar_, and pointed to several photographs. "Take the beard off, and it's Professor Snape, sure as I'm born! I know it says he died, but there's lots of ways to fool Muggles, aren't there?"

By main force of willpower, Grace suppressed the urge to let out a whoop of laughter. "Very astute, Nick. You're looking a bit peaked, though. Why don't you take a nap?" Nick nodded and slipped under the covers, and soon his regular breathing told his mother that he was asleep. She leaned over him and kissed him gently; she had been terribly worried while he was gone, and she relished the chance to show him affection, even though it embarrassed him terribly when she did so while he was awake. Then she slipped out of the room, looking for somewhere that she could let out the laugh that was threatening to burst out at any second.

Just outside the room, she ran into someone she recognized. "Oh! Hullo, Narcissa! What brings you to Hogwarts?" She hadn't seen her old housemate in years, and was curious about what she was doing.

"You do know I have a son here, don't you, Grace? However, I came to peek in on your boy. Between us, he's got more charm than should strictly be legal." Narcissa gave her old mentor a conspiratorial smile. "When he first met me, he thought that I was my son Draco's sister!" She preened slightly. "He was a perfect gentleman…I'm told he's devoted to that little Chinese girlfriend of his…but it's always nice to know one still has 'it!'"

"My son is very clever, but not as clever as he thinks he is, dear. You won't believe the latest thing he came up with!" Narcissa Malfoy's eyes went wide with curiosity. "He thinks that Severus is Rasputin…you know, the Russian mystic from the court of the last Tsar of Russia?" Grace shook her head. "I must say, the pictures he found do look like our Sevvy, only with a big beard…but Nick has a tendency to think nobody else could ever be as clever or intelligent as he is."

"So good to see you, Grace," came a familiar voice. Grace and Narcissa turned to see that Severus Snape had come along. "I take it you're discussing that son of yours?"

Grace's eyes danced with amusement, and a little malice. "So we are-'Grigori Efimovich!'" Hearing Snape addressed with the given name and patronymic of the famous Russian mystic, Narcissa began to giggle, and Grace joined her.

Snape looked utterly martyred. "Oh, Merlin, he told you that insane theory of his? All right, it's very funny…it's extremely funny…_stop laughing_!" At this, the women laughed even harder. "Oooh, when Mr. Cleveland is on his feet, the trouble he is going to be in…"

"Don't feel bad, darling Sevvy," Grace patted his shoulder. "I know how to give him a lesson in humility he won't soon forget…" As she began whispering in his ear, Snape's eyes lit up and he began to grin a very nasty grin.

"And at least, Sevvy," Grace pointed out, "he didn't get his House mates to serenade you the way I heard he did to Draco Malfoy!" Narcissa looked rather conflicted; she had heard about Nick's idea for teaching her son to never, ever meddle with love potions again, but she thought that a rendition _of Love Potion Number Nine_ in front of the whole school was a bit much-ish.* "Or would you like to hear them singing _Ra Ra Rasputin_ to you?" At that thought, Snape turned slightly green.

When Nick awoke again, he found his pillow being plumped up by none other than Luna Lovegood. "Hi, Nicholas. It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back, little one. That was one fight I didn't win."

"I know. You wouldn't let that old witch take me. Even though you went down, you were fighting right up to the end."

Nick gave his friend a look. "Seems I've heard something…something about you charging in, grabbing my wand, and standing there over me, ready to defend me." He raised one eyebrow. "Is that true?"

"Oh, yes, Nicholas. I wouldn't let that old witch hurt you. You were down and couldn't fight; I saw smoke coming from your chest where that amulet of yours had overloaded."

Nick stared at her. "Let me see if I have this straight. You knew I'd lost that duel. You knew that old witch had blasted me down. And you ran in to square off with her…to protect me?"

Luna nodded. Nick reached out for her, and hugged her tightly. She stroked his hair, feeling his body shake with unaccustomed sobs. "Don't cry, Nicholas. Why are you crying? Didn't you know I love you?" She finally just held him until he was able to let her go.

END Chapter 09

*See "Nick Cleveland and the Philtre of Love."


	10. Chapter 10

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre, Chapter 10

by Technomad

A few days later, Nick was up on his feet, although he was still confined to the hospital wing. When Grace came in, he was busy writing letters.

"What are you doing, dear?"

"Sending for some things I'll need. There's thanks that need to be given, and I'm the one who has to give them." Nick gave his mother a fond look. "Don't sweat it. I've plenty of the readies, and what I don't have, I can get a broom company to let me have. They've all been bidding frantically for my favour ever since I set those records." Nick attached the last of the letters to an owl's leg and set it free, to fly hooting out of the window. "Blimey, but I'm bored!"

Just then, Snape came in, and Grace's eyes lit up. Before Nick could react, she grabbed the surprised Potions Master and gave him a big "Sevvy-smooch," just as she had done when she was a sixth-year and he was a "cute as a bug's ear" first-year. Nick's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"MOTHER!"

"What's the matter, dear?"

` "You mustn't do things like that! You're a _married mother_! Married mothers don't do things like that!" Nick was blushing bright red, and Grace smiled inwardly at the response she'd elicited. _Complain to me that he's bored, will he? I'll fix __his__ little red wagon for him!_

"And how do you think you came into existence, dear?"

Nick suddenly raised one eyebrow. "Well_…you _always told me that you went down Diagon Alley, found a kit in a store, and followed the simple instructions…"

"I lied, darling," Grace purred. "You were a half-price special I found down Knockturn Alley. Almost as good, and ever so much cheaper!"

"Mum…in any case, you should ought to treat poor old Professor Snape with respect! _You_ always preached that respect should be shown to elders!"

"And so I continue to believe, honey," Grace smiled evilly. "Which is why Sevvy, here, treats me with respect. _Don't you_, Severus? Just like when you were a firstie and second-year and I was a prefect, and later on, Head Girl!"

Nick goggled at his mother and his potions teacher. Snape nodded, grinning inside. "Oh yes, Mr. Cleveland, your mother was all but running Slytherin House my first couple of years here. She thought I was cute and would grab me and give me a 'Sevvy-smooch' like you just saw, if I wandered into grabbing distance."

Nick looked utterly crushed. Taking pity on him, his mother reached out and patted his head. "There, there, Nick dear, don't feel bad. You're very clever…but not always quite as clever as you think you are. In this case, you had inadequate information. Take it as a lesson."

"In any case, Grace, I came down to tell you that Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you. Please excuse us, Mr. Cleveland." As Snape swept out of the room, Nick thought for a second that he caught a triumphant grin on the Slytherin's face. Then he dismissed the thought as impossible.

000

A few days later, Nick was cleared to return to his quarters. Luna came bouncing up to him as he left the infirmary, her face wreathed in a beaming smile. "Hello, Nicholas! It's so good to have you back!" She gave him a hug around the waist.

"Hi, Luna. It's good to be back on my pins. Listen, sweetie…I'm going to be offering thanks to the gods for my safe return. Everything's set up, and the weather forecast for this evening's good. Want to come?"

"Of course, Nicholas! I know some other people who'd like to come, too! May I ask my cousins Marlie and Draco? And Hermione Granger'd be interested. When I told her you were _Asatru_, she wanted to know if you knew any Old Norse magic."

"Sure! Come one, come all! It does involve a meal, and the more partakers, the better!"

That afternoon, an odd procession left Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore had been pleased to grant permission for Nick to offer thanks, and had signed a waiver for those who wanted to attend. The attendees, who included Melinda, Luna, Hermione Granger and her two inseparable friends, and Luna's cousins Draco Malfoy and Marlie Lovegood, along with Marlie's Slytherin friends, walked over to a hilltop where Nick was waiting for them, along with what looked like a herd of animals. Beside Nick, a huge pile of brushwood waited, and several large boxes.

"Nick…is that an _elephant_?" Hermione's eyes were huge. "What in the world are you going to _do_ with an _elephant_? Where did you get it?"

Nick gave Hermione a look. "_Her_ name is _Savita._ I got her from a zoo. Don't look at me that way…it was all perfectly legal and I have the paperwork to prove it! Poor Savita's getting old, aren't you, sweetie? That nasty ol' cancer's eating you up inside. Without all those pain-killers we had to feed you, you'd be really suffering! There, there…I can make it all better for you…AVADA KEDAVRA!" Nick's wand was up and a flash of green light hit the elephant, which tumbled over on her side with a soft sigh. Nick patted her head, sorrow in his eyes. "There, sweetie, it's all better now, isn't it? The vets weren't able to help you, and you were old and tired and ready to go. The gods will welcome you, and you can roam free on the plains of Vigridr."

As Nick levitated the dead elephant onto the pile of brushwood, then turned to the sheep and cattle, Marlie found her voice. "You killed her!"

"Nothing gets past you, does it, Marlie?" Efficently, Nick began to hit the sheep and cows with further Killing Curses, before levitating their bodies up onto the pyre to join Savita. "Just be thankful I don't choose to do this the Muggle way. Blood all over the place!" Once the animals were all dead, Nick opened the boxes. "Now come the rest of the offerings." He hefted one bottle. "Glenfiddich single-malt Scotch, the fifty-year-old stuff, for Odhinn. Peppermint schnapps, for Loki." He quirked a grin. "You can guess I kept this part of things very secret from Hagrid! Not that I don't love him, but having him be in charge of expensive booze does strike me as taking a few chances too many!"

Nick doffed his Hogwarts robes, revealing that, underneath, he was dressed in what looked to the onlookers like Viking costume; soft low boots, trousers with crossed gaiters up to his knees, a tunic and cape. He turned to the sacrifical pyre. Raising his voice, he began to chant in a language none of those present knew.

Luna leaned close to Marlie and Hermione. "That's Old Norse. Nicholas taught me some, and I can recognise it. He's expressing thanks to the gods, elves, and spirits for bringing us back safely." Nick pointed his wand at the pyre and screamed "_Incendio!" _The pyre was suddenly a mass of flames, and Nick moved his wand back and forth, seeming to call forth more and more fire, until it was hot enough to make them all move back a little. The smell of roasting meat and burning alcohol filled the air.

When the unnatural fire was completely out, nothing was left; the ground itself was glassed from the intensity of the heat. Nick nodded, looking up at the sky. "Good. No adverse omens. The sacrifice was accepted. Now, for the second part of the rite. Let us eat!" He pointed his wand, and all of a sudden, his guests saw that there was a long table heaped with food waiting for them.

As they sat down, Nick pronounced a blessing on the food, asking that the "High Ones" and elves and spirits look favorably on the company. With that out of the way, everybody tucked in with good appetite, and Nick beamed to see his guests enjoying themselves.

Hermione Granger had made sure to get a seat close to Nick. Leaning over close, she asked: "How could you kill that poor elephant? And those cows and sheep?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "With my wand, Hermione. It's called the Killing Curse. And it's only illegal if cast against a person, or goblin, or something like that. Against animals, it's perfectly legal. I checked before I did this."

"But…animal sacrifices? Isn't that barbaric?"

"No. Poor Savita would have been put down in a few days by the zoo; she had inoperable cancer. Those cattle and sheep were slated for the slaughterhouse anyway." Nick narrowed his eyes. "Are you objecting to my religion's rules? Or is it killing animals that bothers you?" He smiled ominously. "You _do_ know, of course, that my ancestors hanged thralls, naked, by their necks from the branches of oak trees as sacrifices to Odhinn, instead of giving him animals and single-malt whiskey?" Suddenly a leather rope appeared in his hands, one end tied into a very functional hangman's noose.

Hermione turned white as a sheet. "That was in medieval times…"

"That was _last week_, up in Lokafjord in Norway. Some fool kept pestering my relatives." Nick fingered the rope, eyeing Hermione speculatively. "I'm generally considered more mellow than my kin in the Old Country…"

"No, no, I have no problem with your practices!" Hermione applied herself to her food, her hand shaking as she speared a potato. "It was just something I wasn't expecting."

Nick lolled back in his chair, satisfied that his point had been made. "When we get back to the castle, I'll loan you some of my books about the survival of paganism in the Scandinavian magical communities. You think my kin and I are unreconstructed? Compared to the Finns, we're up-to-the-minute!"

Melinda leaned over. In a low voice, she said: "Excellent bluffing, darling. You shut her up right quick-smart!"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Who was bluffing, Melinda?"

END Chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

Nick Cleveland and the Coven of Lancre

Chapter Eleven

A few days later, Professor Dumbledore called in Professor Flitwick and Nick Cleveland. Nick was convalescent, and catching up on the schoolwork he had missed.

"You'll be happy to know, Mr. Cleveland, that our…guests…can now return to their home world. We've managed to reverse-engineer your Portkey, and our own people are eager to open relations with the Discworld."

"Great!" Nick was rather relieved; he had thought that he was in a lot of trouble. "Maybe I can go back there, once I'm out of Hogwarts. That 'Unseen University' that I heard the young one, Miss Garlick, talking about sounds like lots of fun. I'd love to see them reacting to Melinda…and Melinda reacting to being told she couldn't study there!" Nick grinned mischeviously. "I always did enjoy a fireworks display!"

"Mr. Cleveland, while I can certainly understand your impatience with their strictures, you should remember, when and _if_ you get to go, that you are a guest, and I shall expect you to comport yourself at all times in a way that reflects credit on Hogwarts," Dumbledore said sternly, as Flitwick nodded agreement.

"Ex-_squeeze_ me? _'If_ I get to go?'" Nick raised one eyebrow. "Seems to me that as the inventor of this process, I have a good right to use it if I please!"

"The process takes a good deal of magical energy, and has been nationalised by the Ministry as a vitally important resource," Dumbledore explained. Nick's eyes went very cold, and Dumbledore hastened to explain: "Of course, they'll be paying you fees for the privilege of using your work. They wouldn't want to cheat you."

"How much?" Nick asked. Dumbledore named a figure, and Nick's eyes went wide. "Well, why-didn't-you-just-_say_-so?" He grinned a grin of pure greed. "Hoody-_hoo_! Flourish and Bott's and Foyle's, here I come!"

Flitwick smiled proudly. "You're a real Ravenclaw, Mr. Cleveland."

"So Professor Snape told me once, long ago, when he found out about my little scheme to discredit Professor Lockhart." Nick looked from his headmaster to his House head. "Oops…you didn't know about that little exploit, did you?"

"Do go on, Mr. Cleveland," purred Dumbledore. "Tell us all about your scheme to discredit one of your teachers."

Nick spread his hands. "Well, after Louella Martin got expelled* for being, if you please, the Heir of Slytherin…and, paranthetically, my own take is that if she's any sort of Heir of Slytherin, I'm the King of Romania…I got to thinking, hard. And I came to the conclusion that the only person who could have done the things the Heir had done, particularly paralysing Nearly Headless Nick, was a very powerful witch or wizard, _who was new to the school_. There was only one person who fit that bill, wasn't there?"

"You're certainly correct about the Heir's exploits being only within the capacities of a powerful wizard or witch, Mr. Cleveland. But why did you think that the perpetrator was new to the school?" Dumbledore was plainly very curious, and Flitwick was beaming with pride in his pupil.

"The attacks had only just started, and I didn't think the Heir of Slytherin would waste any time, sir."

Both teachers nodded. "Excellent thinking! Ten points to Ravenclaw for very clear thinking! After you leave school, may I recommend you look up the Department of Dark Arts Eradication? I have heard that Madame Lovegood is interested in offering you a job." Flitwick looked as smug as a cat that not only had eaten the canary, but got it blamed on the dog.

Nick smiled. "I'll certainly do that. When I visited her with Melinda,** she was the soul of hospitality. She wouldn't let me ride my motorcycle back to London from Devon, because the weather had socked in."

"In any case, it's time for our guests to leave. Shall we go round them up?"

OOO

Granny Weatherwax had hit it right off with Professor McGonagall. They found the two together in McGonagall's office, sipping tea and trading stories.

When she was informed that she could return home, Granny Weatherwax stood up to her full height. "Well, Minerva, I can't say it ain't been a pleasure, getting to know you. Even so, though, I've gotta be getting back home. I've got work to do, work that ain't getting done with me sittin' here."

"You're welcome back here anytime, Esme. I must say it's very refreshing to meet a kindred spirit. I may come and visit you, one of these days. Or you could come back here?"

"Anythin's possible, Minerva. Gotta go collect my friends, an' get ourselves back home. No tellin' what people've been getting up to without me there to keep an eye on things."

"Believe me, I know the feeling!" The two witches shook hands, and Granny Weatherwax came out to meet Flitwick and Nick.

"You feelin' all right, young feller?" Granny Weatherwax bent a beady eye on Nick, who felt for a moment rather like he was facing McGonagall with his homework undone and his trouser-fly open.

"I'm on the mend, Granny." Nick had been briefed on how the Discworld witches preferred to be addressed. "Thank you for your concern, though."

"One of a witch's jobs is healin' sick people," Granny pointed out. "Even here, I'm just doin' my job."

"And doing it well," Flitwick said. "Madame Pomfrey said that you're one of the better Healers she's ever met, and her standards are high."

"Of course!"

Nanny Ogg took a deal of tracking down. Finally, she was run to earth on the Hogwarts grounds, talking intensely with Molly Weasley, of all people.

"Esme! You'll never guess what I found out!" Nanny beamed at her friend. "It seems that one of my sons may have found his way here before we did!"

"Really?" Granny Weatherwax raised an eyebrow. Nick wished for a notepad and biro, to take notes.

"The caretaker here before Mr. Hagrid was named Ogg, and Molly, here, is his granddaughter! What fun, to meet relatives where you weren't expectin' them!"

"Yes, indeed!" Molly Weasley radiated happiness. "Nanny, here, is my great-great grandmother! I never thought I'd get to meet her! Thank you, Nicholas!" She grabbed a very surprised Nick and squeezed him, kissing him on the cheek.

"Well, we'll have to make sure to keep you two in touch. In the meantime, Gytha, they tell me it's time for us to be headin' back to Lancre. Work's a-pilin' up, and we've gotta be there to do it."

With hugs and promises to communicate, the two witches finally parted company. "Now, where in the world is that Magrat?" muttered Granny Weatherwax. "Ain't like her not to be easy to find."

They looked high and low, but no sign of Magrat Garlick could they find. Nick finally said: "Granny, let me try something." Pulling out his wand, he said: "Point me, Magrat Garlick!" The wand quivered, and then pointed to Hogwarts Castle. "She's in there somewhere, ladies. Let's go find her!"

As they followed Nick on the trail, Nanny Ogg muttered to Granny Weatherwax: "Shame about meetin' him at my age. When I was younger…" The look Granny Weatherwax gave her would have melted a hole in stone, but Nanny was unintimidated.

After several repetitions of the charm, Nick and the two Discworld witches were standing below the Divination classroom. Granny Weatherwax yelled: "MAGRAT! Get your skinny arse down here! It's time for us to go!"

The trap door opened, and Magrat Garlick peered out. "Oh! Granny Weatherwax! I'm so sorry! I've been having such fascinating discussions with Professor Trelawney! I've learned ever so much from her, and told her a bunch of things she never knew!"

As Magrat came climbing down the ladder, Professor Trelawney came after her. "My dear, you will be back one day. The Inner Eye says it, and the Inner Eye does not lie." Then she turned to Nick. "And you, young Mr. Cleveland, have a most interesting future ahead of you. I foresee a happy marriage and an interesting career!"

"Why, thank you, Professor," Nick said. Privately, he thought Trelawney to be mainly a fraud, nearly on Lockhart's level, but he was almost always polite, even when seriously provoked. He had had little to do with Trelawney, but had heard a great deal about her from his House mates.

And with the three Discworld witches reunited, they repaired to Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster personally cast the spell to send them home. When they were gone, Nick turned to Dumbledore. "You know, sir, I do hope I can see them again some day. Nanny Ogg's wonderful company, and Magrat reminds me of Luna."

"I notice you don't mention Granny Weatherwax," Dumbledore observed.

"Frankly, sir, she scares me. Oh, I respect her…but she scares me."

"As she should. For what it's worth, she did say that you were quite an accomplished spellcaster, for your age…and sex."

"She sounds like Melinda, pontificating on how much superior witches are. May I be excused, sir?" When Professor Dumbledore nodded, Nick turned and went back to his tower.

THE END

(Author's note: This may be the last Nick Cleveland story for a while, at least in the Hogwarts universe. I've taken the character, revamped him and Melinda and Luna, and put them into S.M. Stirling's Emberverse. However, if inspiration strikes, I may return to this someday.)

*"Detective Work," by Technomad, referring to Chapters 20-on of Enemies of the Heir, by J.L. Mathews.

** "Nick Cleveland and the Spirit of Christmas," by Technomad.


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